Viva La Vie Boheme!
by Rose DiVerona
Summary: Your basic Rent 2 story. Eighteen years after. The characters have kids, but the story is actually mostly focused on the original characters. Lots of focus on Mark, cause he is awesome.
1. 9460800 Minutes

Nearly eighteen years had passed in the lives of our favorite Bohemians since that second Christmas Eve. Eighteen years since Mimi's close brush with death. Over eighteen since Angel's encounter with it. A lot had changed over the years for everyone.

In the January after, the whole gang began attending Life Support meetings together – Mark, Maureen, and Joanne included, though they weren't sick, of course. It was mostly for Mimi, so that she knew she had friends who cared about her and could get better. And she did. Her health was restored to its usual flare, and she gave up drugs forever. In April, Roger proposed. Mimi didn't need to use words to answer – all it took was a very long, romantic kiss. They had a beautiful summer wedding in the very church where Angel's death had been mourned; after the ceremony, the couple and their friends visited the cemetery before heading to the Life Café for refreshments. Mimi and Roger then moved in to Mimi's old apartment, and Collins moved in with Mark.

Even before this union, in February, Maureen and Joanne decided to give engagement a second try. They were wed in May, about a month before Mimi and Roger. At first, everyone feared that such a whirlwind marriage would end in disaster, but, surprisingly, it had since worked out fairly smoothly. Despite their occasional fights and threats of divorce, the couple's bond remained unbroken eighteen years later.

Collins never got involved romantically after Angel. He said that her death had torn his heart apart, and he needed only his friends to help him piece it back together again.

Mark finally got his perfect relationship in the August of the first year, when he ran into a young woman at a job interview. Her name was Anna, and they began going out. For a long time, all Mark would talk about was how pretty, funny, smart, and _perfect _Anna was. The Bohemians finally got to meet her at a Halloween party they hosted at the Loft. Mark brought his dream girl. She was just like he described her to be – pretty, with a witty sarcasm that matched Mark's perfectly. Besides that, she had great interest in films and photography, though she herself was an elementary school teacher. At first, Mark had worried that Anna might not accept his lifestyle and ragtag group of friends, but she was extremely accepting, as was proved that night. In the middle of the festivities, she stood up and announced that no matter what diseases were present in the group, no matter what dark pasts had been experienced, she accepted them all the way they were. After that, all shyness between the newly introduced vanished. The group fell in love with Anna. Mimi made it her personal job to inform their new friend about 'everything important,' as she put it, and the two became fast friends. The next Halloween, a year after this first meeting, an Anna Cohen was added to the family.

It was about this time that Mimi announced she was pregnant with a baby Davis. The group celebrated this news joyously, and congratulated the to-be parents by hosting yet another party. None of them thought it necessary to point out that the baby would most likely be HIV-positive. Both Mimi and Roger knew that already, and it wouldn't help matters to dampen the excitement when nothing could be done about it. Three months after this, in early February, Mark and Anna announced that there was a third Cohen on the way. More celebrations ensued, perhaps even more happily then at the Davis's announcement, because, of course, any child of Mark and Anna's would have no reason to be unhealthy.

The next four months after this passed quickly, and signs of belly expansion foretold the eventual coming of Mimi's baby. On April 30th, the group gathered in a hospital room to greet Angela April Davis, a beautiful baby girl with her mother's wide brown eyes and dark hair, but her father's quirky grin. The name Angela was a mix between 'Angel' and 'Angelica,' Mimi's mother. There was no need to explain April. Her parents were in for a surprise – Angie was tested, and she wasn't HIV-positive! It was a very rare case, but it had happened! This made Mimi cry happily for a whole day, and Roger never stopped grinning for a week. For a while, Angie was the center of attention, but time flies, and five months later, October 7th, Rachael Dumott Cohen came into the world with her father's reddish-blonde hair but her mother's green-gray eyes. Two healthy baby girls, in the course of just over five months.

For a very long time, Maureen, Joanne, and Collins just stood by and watched the happy families as they loved, played with, and cared for the babies. The first Christmas was a special affair, full of reminiscing adults and new rattles and stuffed animals. Maureen and Joanne considered adopting, but decided to wait and see how it all went. They were busy enough babysitting their new goddaughters.

Yes, for eighteen years, 9,460,800 minutes, all was fine. There were no serious relapses on anyone's part (much to everyone's surprise), and as Angie and Rachael grew up together, they became best friends. No more children were conceived, none were adopted, and none died. But eighteen years is a long time. The Bohemians knew it was only a matter of time before this streak ended and disaster struck. Where our story picks up, Christmas Eve, it was just around the corner…


	2. Memories and Visiting

A/N: Chapter 2! This is an especially long one. Yeah, it is pretty sappy, and maybe some of the characters are not done absolutely right...Please don't sue me. The last chapter was more of a proloouge to introduce you to the new characters. Review!

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, except for Anna, Rachael, and Angie.

"December 24th, 2:30 pm, Eastern Standard time," announced Mark Cohen, his blue eyes hidden, as usual, behind the lens of his ancient camera.

Roger Davis, sitting beside him on the duct tape decorated couch, groaned and threw a pillow haphazardly at his best friend. It missed and landed a few feet short of Tom Collins, who was sitting in the duct taped armchair. Collins laughed and kicked it back.

"Here we see a very bored and possibly emotionally unstable musician as he expresses his contempt at the genius cameraman's antics," Mark continued, zooming in on Roger's scowl to reveal the laughing eyes. "Oh, is that a hint of humor I see there? How could it be? C'est impossible!" He fell backward in a fake faint, draping an arm over the couch's back dramatically.

Roger, seeing his opportunity, clobbered him with the pillow. "Well, Mr. Genius Cameraman, you'd better watch out, because this 'emotionally unstable' musician might just take out his uncontrollable anger on you," he said, wagging his finger warningly.

"Oh no!" Collins squeaked in a high voice, "Please don't! Have mercy!"

"Shhhh!!!" Mark scolded. His camera was trained upwards as he lay backward over the couch arm. "I'm filming! Here we see the cracked plaster of this masterpiece mural of water spots and who knows what else. The cracks widen as the seconds pass and no one comes to fix this potentially fatal problem." He began to shake the camera dramatically, "Oh no! The cracks form a chasm – an earthquake! No, no! Anything but this! Nooooo!" Then with a final explosion noise, he muffled the lens with his scarf and set the device gently in his lap.

Roger and Collins watched with raised eyebrows, and then burst out laughing. Collins even fell off his chair. Mark attempted a glare, but soon he was chuckling along with the other two.

When they had calmed down a little, Roger removed his guitar from its case and strummed a few notes. "What would Anna say if she saw you filming the ceiling and making explosion noises?" he asked amusedly.

Mark smirked. "She'd tell me that I still act like I'm still a teenager – that I 'have yet' to grow up. But don't get a big head, Davis. Meems says the same about you. I think it must be a contagious ailment. Forget the Fountain of Youth – this is the Loft of Laughter! Never Neverland, all the way. What happens in New York stays in New York."

Collins laughed. "You're in your element today, Mark. Rachael would be proud of her daddy."

Mark took a bow. "Where are the women again?"

"Shopping," Roger snorted.

"Women," Mark sighed.

"What is it about them?" Collins chimed in.

"Can't live with them or without them," they all finished in unison, laughing again.

"So…we meet the ladies at the Life Café at six for dinner, then we come back here for the party," Collins confirmed, "But what do we do in the meantime? We can't stay here all day. I feel like I'm in some old Christmas special. This place is too…"

"Christmassy?" Roger offered.

"Crammed?" supplied Mark.

"Both," Collins decided.

And it was true. Maureen and Joanne had bought a Christmas tree, and it now sat in a normally bare spot in front of the doors to the fire escape. They had even assisted Mimi and Anna in decorating it with a few long-lost ornaments, some of the hand-made popsicle stick variety. There was even a stale popcorn rope and a paper chain. Against her better judgment, Anna permitted some candles to be placed throughout the tree, to be lit at the party. This reminded both Roger and Mimi of their initial meeting in the loft.

Besides the tree, cheap lights had been strung throughout the room, taped everywhere. Cheesy construction paper signs, most made by Rachael and Angie, hung on the walls. To the girls, it was atmospheric. To the three men, it was too much. _Especially_ considering Mark was Jewish.

"We could go to the park," Roger suggested, "See if any bands are playing." As the leader of a band, Roger was always interested in possible competition.

The other two put down this idea, saying it was boring to listen to bands nonstop. Roger pretended to be hurt, but he was grinning too hard because of the other's horrified expressions.

"We could go wander the streets aimlessly while I film," Mark said.

This was also quickly rejected.

"We could go walk to the cemetery," Collins said quietly.

The other two sobered. It was a tradition for Collins to go to the cemetery on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Usually, he preferred to go alone on these occasions, but now he was obviously giving a veiled offer for them to accompany him.

"Are you sure?" Mark asked. Collins nodded.

"Okay." Roger put his guitar away and donned his coat. Mark wrapped his scarf tighter around his neck and clutched his camera tightly. Collins waited for them patiently.

When they were all ready, they left the Loft and walked down the street towards the church. It was a fairly long way, and they all walked in silence, immersed in their own thoughts and memories.

Collins was remembering Christmas Eve seventeen years ago. He was on the street, about to go up to the Loft to meet Roger and Mark, when some guys had beat him up and stolen his coat. He was freezing, scared, and in pain. That is, until Angel came along. She had taken care of him. As she put it the next morning, 'Then I dressed his wounds and got him back on his feet.' Collins grinned as he remembered her Santa outfit, and how she had killed Benny's akita, Evita. It was a famous story in the group, even now. Angel had always seemed to be energetic and loving – always there for everyone, no matter what. That was what Collins had loved the most. It seemed that every Christmas Eve, he had to shift through the same set of memories, recalling every word spoken. As if to make sure he hadn't forgotten.

Mark didn't even lift his camera once along the way. He was remembering how life had been for the Bohemians back when it had all begun. It all seemed so long ago not that there were three Cohens instead of just him. The group had been dirt poor back then – heck, they struggled now! Benny had offered them a way out of paying rent by canceling Maureen's protest, but they didn't accept it because Mark had still loved Maureen, even though she had chosen Joanne over him. Roger had been moody and talked very little because of April's suicide and his fear of his own demise, and Collins had his own apartment. Then Mimi and Angel came into the picture, on the same night, but to two different people. And that was a beginning of an interesting chapter of the Bohemian's lives. The end had begun after Angel died.

Roger's thoughts drifted back even farther than his friends' did. He was thinking about a very young and cocky version of himself. He had April, drugs, and his guitar, which in his naïve mind made him cool. Roger remembered finding out that he and April had AIDS, remembered seeing the test results, getting a terrible feeling inside. April had cried and screamed, refusing to accept the truth, while her boyfriend remained in shocked silence. One day, he had come home to find her dead in the bathtub. Obviously, he was stronger then she was – she simply couldn't live with the truth. Her suicide ended a chapter in _his _life. Then he had gotten a call from a school buddy, Mark, who was looking for a roomie. Roger had moved in with him. Beginning of new chapter.

The three friends were so lost in their thoughts that they all blinked, surprised, when they realized they were in front of the open cemetery gates. Before them stretched the frost-covered grass, and, dotting the landscape, the stone shapes of gravestones. Collins leapt forward as if afraid the gates might shut. The other two watched as he practically sprinted out of sight, then, shrugging at each other, they followed at a slower pace.

Collins was crouched at the grave when they arrived. He jumped as their footsteps approached, and Mark realized he had probably been having a private word with his former lover. Without speaking, they joined him on either side.

"Angel…you were always the brave one of us two," Collins whispered, his voice scratchy with tears, "I was the coward, afraid of death, but you never were. You said you'd know when it was your time to go, and you wouldn't fight it. Well, that time came too soon…for me…for all of us. But, baby, I've got a secret – I'm not afraid of death anymore. Merry Christmas. I love you…" his voice trailed off as tears rolled down his cheeks.

Mark stepped forward and put an arm around Collins shoulders. "She knows," he whispered softly, sadly.

Collins smiled through his tears. "Yeah." He reached into his coat pocket and drew out a single red rose, placing it in front of the stone, where the inscription 'Loving Friend, Daughter, and Lover' was carved. Then he shoved his hands into his pockets and turned away.

"Meet you outside," he muttered before hurrying away.

Roger knelt in front of the grave. His fingers traced the word 'Friend,' and he smiled. "Thanks, Angel. From Mimi and me. You gave us everything." Then he, too, shuffled off, leaving Mark alone.

"Well, Angel, you were an inspiration to all of us," he said, smiling wryly, "I made my first film 'cause of you. And you lit up Collins's life. Thanks for being there for a while. 'Bye."

The others were waiting at the gate. When Mark joined them, they started in silence back to the Loft. When they got there, it was still only 3:30, so Roger plopped down again on the couch and Collin lowered himself onto the chair. Mark, however, excused himself to his bedroom, saying he was going to take a nap.

Collins fell asleep, too, so Roger sat alone in the room, playing his guitar quietly and singing 'Your Eyes' to himself. It had become a legend, his first song ever. He had no doubt the others would ask for him to play it tonight. They would probably do a lot of reminiscing, too, another Christmas tradition. Roger knew he'd have to steel himself for some memories of April, but he was comforted by the fact that he wasn't alone in having lost a lover. Collins was probably just as upset, maybe more. Especially because he had met Angel on Christmas Eve, nearly seventeen years ago.

Geez, that was a long time. Roger didn't _feel _old, and he sure didn't act like he was! Well, he wasn't that old, anyways. Mimi was only thirty-six, so that would make him…forty. And Collins was even older than that. Frankly, Roger was just amazed that he, Mimi, and Collins had survived as long as they had. It was a miracle, he knew. But, hey – when you lived in fear every day, a little miracle from time to time was more than welcome.

Roger shivered the thought of age and disease away and moved on to playing the Musetta's Waltz. He wasn't aware that he had stopped playing, but when he came to, he realized he was lying down on the couch, hugging his guitar to his body. Realizing he had fallen asleep, he checked his watch. It was 6:15! Time to go.

He catapulted off the couch, leaving his guitar behind, and shook Collins roughly. "Collins! Tom! Buddy, we're going to be late to dinner!" Collins groaned and moved feebly, so Roger ran down the hall to Mark and Anna's room. Mark was fast asleep on the bed.

"Mark! Get up! We're supposed to be at the Café in five minutes!" Roger yelled, throwing a pillow at the cameraman, who sat bolt upright in bed.

"Where? What?" he asked stupidly. Then realization kicked in. "Oh, shoot!" He jumped up, grabbing his coat and camera, and followed Roger back to the living room, where Collins had gone back to sleep.

"Argghh!!!" In frustration, Roger dragged him from the chair, depositing him unceremoniously on the hard floor. Collins jumped up, glaring at him.

"Thanks a lot!" he began, but Roger interrupted him.

"No time! You can thank me later. Let's go!"

Once downstairs, the three piled into Roger's beat-up car and he navigated through traffic expertly. When his heart rate had slowed down, Mark grinned.

"I don't think I've ever seen you move that fast," he teased.

Roger didn't take his eyes off the road. "You've never seen Mimi mad," he muttered. Both Collins and Mark smirked.

Within minutes, Roger had parked the car on the curb across from the Life Café, and the three men were out of it and crossing the street. It was 6:25.

Roger stopped in front of the doors. "Well, we might as well get this over with," he said darkly, and they made their way inside.


	3. The Life Cafe: Part 1

A/N: Okay, Chapter Three. The plot will pick up soon, I promise. Something happens in Chapter Four or Five, I haven't decided how to divide it yet. Well, as you can tell, this isn't one of those crazy Rent fanfics. I love those, but I just can't seem to do them. If you want something more entertaining and easy to read, check out my poems of Wicked and Rent!

Disclaimer: -Sigh- If only...

Immediately, overwhelming noise reached their ears. The café was hopping, as usual. Waitresses scurried around, trays laden heavily with food held high above the heads of diners. A few strings of lights encircled the bar in an attempt for a holiday atmosphere. As Mark, Roger, and Collins moved forward, the host hurried to cut them off.

"Oh no, not tonight! It's Christmas! Can't you lot go somewhere else?"

The men rolled their eyes. They'd come to the Life Café many, _many _times over the years, and every time the host pleaded for them to leave. And every time the group prevailed. They could pay now, after all.

"We're with a group that's already here," Roger interrupted, pushing past the short man, with Collins on his heels. Mark meekly followed.

"All right, but don't push the tables together…why do I bother?" the host shook his head and turned to greet some new arrivals.

Roger, the tallest of his companions, craned his neck and scanned the throng. "There they are!" he pointed to a long table in the center of the room, where the female Bohemians were sitting and talking animatedly. Shopping bags were so abundant they almost seemed to sprout from their ankles.

"Mimi's really spent her paycheck this time," Roger murmured.

Collins and Mark ignored him and darted through the maze of tables and people to their table. Mimi looked up and narrowed her eyes in a dangerous glare. She jumped to her feet and made straight for her husband.

"Roger Davis! You are a half hour late! One half hour!"

The musician tried to speak, but Mimi plowed on in Spanish.

"¡Tu es un idiota estúpido!"

Angie appeared at her mother's shoulder, wearing a red sweater and a jean jacket with jeans. Tonight, she looked remarkably like a mini-Mimi. "Hey, dad. Mom, why don't we sit down?" she suggested, taking her mother's arm. Mimi shook her off and continued ranting.

"¿Sabe tu cómo preocupé fui¡Tu baila el vals en, una media hora tarde, y yo pienso 'Esto es la Ciudad de Nueva York, ellos podrían estar muertos, o peores!' ¡Cuida aún tu!!!"

"Translate please…" Roger whispered to his daughter.

"¡Tu me escucha, el señor¡Tu tiene una familia, una esposa y la hija¡Tu es un zoquete irresponsable¿Cómo puede tu?"

"She said you're an irresponsible dunderhead. And before that she said she was worried because you 'waltzed in a half hour late' and this is New York, blah, blah, blah."

"Mimi…" Roger began, but he was interrupted by continued yelling.

Angie's eyes widened. "Mother!!!" she said in shock.

"Um…what did she say?"

Angie looked nervous. "She said that…uh…she loves you?" she said hopefully. Then she gasped again. "Mom!"

"What now?"

"She said…'Have a nice day.'"

Mimi finally looked as if she was calming down, but her eyes were still blazing. "Where _were _you?"

Roger tentatively answered, "We…fell asleep."

"You feel asleep. You are a half hour late because you FELL ASLEEP!" Mimi looked as if she was getting ready to restart.

"We went to the cemetery to visit Angel, and we got tired when we got back, so we lost track of time," Mark explained gently.

Mimi's eyes softened instantly. "Oh," she said, very softly. Then she gave Collins a big hug. "Lo siento, Collins," she said, "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. Come sit."

She led the small group to the table, her cheeks flushing. For the first time, Roger realized the whole café had been listening in. They were now attempting to act as thought they weren't interested in the incident.

The others were sitting at the table, trying to stifle grins. Rachael was giggling outright. As Mark passed her chair, he ruffled her hair affectionately.

"Hiya, kid."

"Dad!" Rachael laughed and straightened her glasses as Angie slid back into the space beside her.

Mark pulled up a chair next to Anna, kissing her on the cheek. "Hey, hon," he said fondly.

Anna smiled warmly. "How was your day?"

"Amusing," Roger answered form Mark's other side, "Mark was filming the ceiling and reliving his Peter Pan days."

Mark blushed. "Yeah, I _totally_ have a pair of tights in my dress-up box back at the Loft," he quipped, "You wanna see later, dear?"

Anna grinned. "Sure. We can play dress-up. I'll be Tinkerbell!"

"Anything for you," her husband replied, laughing.

Over on Anna's other side, Maureen and Joanne were arguing over the shopping money spent that afternoon.

"Maureen, money doesn't grow on trees!" Joanne scolded, "You didn't need those boots! Now look where that put our budget."

Her wife rolled her eyes. "C'mon, pookie! Quit worrying about the money for once. Those boots were stylin'! Buy something for yourself for a change! Splurge!"

"We don't have the money to splurge, honeybear." Joanne was trying to sound gently sensible. "We aren't Bill Gates, you know."

"No," Maureen replied matter-of-factly, "For one thing, we're female."

"Hey, look who it is," Mark said loudly, his voice raising above the argument. He pointed to the door.

Everyone looked. Maureen snorted and stood up.

"Benjamin Coffin III, and his young counterpart, Benjamin Coffin IV. Surprise, surprise." She said, loudly enough so all patrons of the restaurant could hear.

Benny put his face in his hands. His fifteen-year-old son, Ben, however, grinned. The host, seemingly oblivious to all the tension that had formed, cleared a table right next to our Bohemians. The Coffin men sat down, Benny edging as far away from the others as possible.

"So, Benny, evicted any tenants lately?" Maureen continued conversationally.

Benny groaned. "Not tonight, Maureen. It's Christmas Eve, for heaven's sake!"

"So why aren't you at some big office party?" Roger inquired.

Before Benny could answer, their waiter bustled over with some platters of noodles. "Pasta with meatless balls," he announced.

Everyone at the two tables froze, eyes wide. Then seven heads turned to Mark, who was grinning hugely. The three kids, however, frowned confusedly. Then realization dawned on the girls' faces, and they covered their mouths, breathless with laughter.

"Uh…Dad? What's going on?" Ben asked, brow furrowed.

It was then that it occurred to the others that Benny probably hadn't told his son about that night – it was an embarrassing event for him.

A light bulb switched on in Mark's head. Making his face as serious as possible, he hopped up on the table, to (ignored) protests from the employees of the café, and the cheers of his companions.

"Benjamin Coffin IV," he said solemnly, "You have been chosen to hear the tale of a late December Eve, nineteen years ago, in this very café. It is a tale of mockery, mostly, but also of love hatred – scratch those last two – and…La Vie Boheme."

Maureen catcalled, and Roger, Mimi, Collins, and Joanne applauded. Anna, looking interested, leaned forward on her elbows. Rachael looked a mix between mortified that her father was on a table in public, and excited. Even Ben looked enticed. Benny, however, was evidently horrified, as he was making rapid negative motions with his hands.

"Do you accept this offer?" Mark asked, still with a straight face.

"Uh…sure?" Ben replied, glancing at his father, who had buried his face in his hands, resigned to his fate.

Mark's face cracked into a grin. "Then so be it. Collins, would you do the honors?"

"Who died?" Collins asked, with a bit of sadness – that was originally Angel's line.

Roger imitated Benny, as it was obvious he wasn't going to rise to the occasion. "Our akita…"

"Evita!" everyone else chimed in.

Roger stood up and walked around the table as he deposited Benny's line before them. He finished up right in their former friend's face.

"…Bohemia, Bohemia's

A fallacy in your head

This is Calcutta,

Bohemia is dead."

Mark took the reins from there.

"Dearly beloved, we gather here to say our goodbyes,

Here she lies,

No one knew her worth,

The late, great daughter of Mother Earth

On these nights

When we celebrate the birth

In that little town of Bethlehem…"

The song picked up speed quickly. Some of the other diners at the café, also struggling Bohemians, picked up the thread of the chorus, and Angel's lines were tossed from friend to friend. Ben watched the whole thing with wide open eyes and mouth, unable to take his eyes away from the spectacle before him. Angie and Rachael got into it, dancing around the table and singing along. They had been told this story plenty of times, but never before treated to actually experiencing it! Anna got up on the table next to her husband and joined in the best she could, often being the one to explicate Angel's parts. Finally, the song wound down…

"Viva, La Vie Boheme!"

A/N: Yeah, I brought back everyone's fave song. I know it may seem a little out of place, 'cuz it isn't usually done in fics, but I love that song. Please don't kill me for doing it! Hey - it could be worse - I could be writing my own songs! Just kidding! Well, I've had a total of one review on this story so far. Not a lot, guys! Please review, or I may not continue...


	4. The Life Cafe: Part 2

A/N: Here's part two! I'm going to be updating about as often as it took between the last chapter and this one, but it could be longer or shorter, I don't know.

Disclaimer: Yeah, right.

----------------------

The café was filled with the cheers of the diners of the café. Those who worked there looked relieved the whole spectacle was over. Even Ben applauded enthusiastically. Maureen blew kisses, and Roger and Mark took several bows.

"Why didn't you tell me about this before?" Ben asked his father incredulously.

"Because," Benny mumbled into his palms.

"Well, no worries now, eh, Benjamin?" Roger said clapping his former friend on the back a little _too _hard, "We took care of it for you!"

"Thank you, thank you very much," Collins said in a very accurate impersonation of Elvis.

"Soundtrack now available from Bohemian Records. Music by Roger Davis. Music video by Mark Cohen, featured dancing by Mimi Marquez." Mark joked in a deep announcer's voice.

Just then, the bell over the door tinged as someone entered the restaurant, bringing a rush of winter with them. A further glance told the Bohemians it was Allison, Benny's wealthy wife and Ben's mother. She spotted her husband and son almost instantly, but her nose wrinkled when she saw who was next to them. As she approached, she said nastily, "Well, well, well, look who it is. The struggling lows of Alphabet City, in flesh."

"Hello, Muffy," Mimi said sweetly.Allison flushed. She opened her mouth to retort, but Benny jumped up, shrugging on his coat.

"Come on, Ben. We'll find somewhere else to eat."

Ben looked reluctant to leave, but he followed his parents dutifully, with a wave over his shoulder. Allison tossed one remark back.

"I hope you enjoy freezing this Christmas."

"I hope you enjoy freezing this Christmas," Joanne mimicked as the door swung shut. "Well, _she's_ a nice woman!"

"Their son, Ben, isn't bad, though," Anna remarked, taking a bite of pasta.

"He's a Coffin man. He'll end up just like his father," Roger scoffed.

"Maybe so," Collins allowed, and the adult's conversations split.

"Wow. I didn't know my dad could sing or dance like that," Rachael said to Angie, "I mean, he was good! Witnessing La Vie Boheme was ten times better then just hearing about it."

"Totally," Angie agreed, "Ten _thousand_ times better. And my mom was really rocking it, too! I've never seen her dance that…freely. Like she was nineteen again!"

"So…Angie. D'ya think Ben enjoyed himself tonight?" Rachael asked, grinning knowingly, "I think he liked the show."

Angie choked on a gulp of soda. "Rachael!" she chided, wiping her mouth with her hand.

"What? Everyone knows you liiiiike him!" her friend sing-songed.

"Shhh!" Angie warned, leaning in closer, "Everyone except my dad. And if he knew…" she shivered.

Rachael rolled her eyes. "Oh, come one, Miss Drama Queen, what would he do?"

"Hmm, let's see…give me an hour lecture and send me to my room for a year, maybe? Face it, Rach – my dad isn't as accepting of the Coffins as yours is. I don't know why. Besides, you can't honestly say _your _dad would be happy if _you _had a crush on Ben!"

"Well…no," Rachael admitted, "But you can't hide it forever! Wouldn't you rather tell your dad before he finds out himself?"

"Stop making sense, Rachael Cohen!"

Rachael grinned triumphantly. Just like her father, she could often be logical enough to get on people's nerves.

"Sorry, you're right. It's Christmas Eve! No bugging tonight, promise," Rachael said. Then she whispered, "Ben!" And burst into giggles as Angie glared. "Sorry, seriously, I'm done," she said, hiccupping.

Mimi beamed fondly at the teens. "I'm glad to see the girls are having a good time," she remarked, leaning against her husband, "This is Angie's favorite holiday."

"Rachael's too," Anna nodded, "But she loves Halloween almost as much."

"Remember when you didn't have kids? When we weren't even married – none of us?" Joanne asked, sipping her wine.

"How could we possibly ever forget?" Roger asked with a quirky grin.

"Remember New Year's?" Maureen asked.

"You and your catsuit…not exactly hard to remember!" Mark laughed, "Remember when Mo and Joanne got engaged?"

"And broke up?" Collins smiled.

"Remember Halloween?" Mimi asked quietly.

The table became solemn. Even Rachael and Angie, hearing the last bit, fell silent. The group couldn't escape from remembering Halloween every time they mentioned the past, particularly that one year.

"A toast," Maureen proposed, raising her glass, "To Angel Dumott Schunard. In loving memory."

"To Angel," the group chorused, and gulped their drinks.

"And to Gordon, Steve, and the others at Life Support who have passed away," Mark said, raising his nearly empty glass of beer. Gordon and Steve had died six months and eight months after that Christmas Eve.

"To Life Support," the others agreed.

"One more, while we're making toasts. To April," Roger offered.

"To April."

"No day but today," Collins murmured. Mimi squeezed his shoulder.

"So…time to move this party to the loft!" Mark said cheerfully.

This decision was met with unanimous agreement, so the group pushed back their chairs, gathered their belongings, and exited the café into the freezing air. Mark, Roger, Collins, Rachael, and Angie piled into Roger's car, and Mimi, Anna, Maureen, and Joanne climbed into Joanne's jeep.

They reached the loft at virtually the same time (Roger was better at getting through traffic) and climbed the stairs to the loft. Mark took a while fishing in his pockets for the keys, before they realized they hadn't locked the door earlier when they left. Laughing over this mistake, they opened the door.

A gust of chilly air took Mark's breath away, and he and the others stopped laughing abruptly.

"Geez, it's _cold_!" Maureen gasped, grabbing Joanne's arm, "Almost as cold as outside!"

Mark sprinted to the heater and fiddled with the dial. "It's not working!" he called.

Roger pulled the light switch. Nothing happened.

"That…that…idiot!" Mimi yelled. She began, once again, to shout in rapid Spanish.

"Meems, relax, it's okay!" Anna soothed her, "We'll just light a few candles instead."

Joanne nodded. "And we can use this trash can thing here to make a fire," she said, pointing to the rusting metal can.

"I'll go get some blankets!" Rachael offered brightly.

"And I'll help Anna with the snacks," Maureen smiled.

"See? No biggie," Roger said, kissing his wife on the top of her head. He looked concernedly at her. "Are you all right? You've been pretty uptight tonight."

"I'm fine," Mimi protested, brushing her husband's hand away, "Just a little tired." Then she smiled, "So, where are the matches? I'll light the candles."

--------------

A/N: Review!!! And Happy New Year!!!


	5. Good Feeling

A/N: Here you go, Chapter Five! I had to change this chapter quite a bit - it was wayyyy too sappy for Rent! But I did my best, because I wanted to update! Trust me, the excitement begins next chapter...

Disclaimer: I wish.

------------------------

Twenty minutes later, the entire group was seated comfortably in the main room with mugs of hot chocolate from a vendor down the street. Roger and Mimi huddled together with a blanket on a floor. Mark and Anna had the couch. Collins claimed the chair, while Maureen and Joanne pulled up stools, draping a blanket across their laps. Rachael and Angie also sat on the floor, sharing the quilt from Rachael's bed. The Christmas tree shone with lit candles, casting a flickering glow everywhere. And the trash can was positioned off to the side of the couch, a pile of old newspapers stacked to the side to be fed to the flames.

"Much better," Anna commented, snuggling against her husband and the cocoon of blankets.

"Dad – why would Benny turn off the electricity? We paid our rent," Rachael pointed out.

Mark's face darkened. "He just felt like causing some trouble, that's all."

"But that's against the law!" Angie protested.

"And who's ever going to do anything about it?" Roger asked, "The Coffins _own _Alphabet City. Or rather, Benny's father-in-law does. In fact, I bet Allison was the one who turned everything off. She'd _love_ causing us trouble on Christmas Eve."

"Honey…" Mimi put a warning hand on her husband's knee. He shut up and sat back, but his eyes were glinting dangerously.

A silent sigh of relief ran across the group. Once you got Roger started on the subject of Benny and his family, it was hard to get him to be quiet for a long time, as he listed the many faults and grievances each of the family members possessed.

In the silence, the faint strains of Christmas carols could be heard drifting up from the street, slipping through the crack of the window that wouldn't shut all the way. Rather than promote a feeling of peace over the Bohemians, it made them restless. Any sentimental moment made them restless!

Mark's eyes scanned the room for something to stare at. They fell on the tree, glowing as it was with its numerous mismatched candles, paper chains (kind of a fire hazard…), cheap ornaments, and the angel perched on top.

_Wait…angel?_ Mark looked again. _Where did that come from?_

"Uh…guys? Did we get an angel for the tree?"

The stupor they had all fallen into lifted somewhat, and everyone blinked and looked around.

"Huh?" Anna asked stupidly.

"That angel. I thought all we had was a pipe cleaner star. Did we get an angel?"

They all gazed at the angel in question, thinking back.

"No," Roger said finally, frowning, "Don't remember an angel."

One by one, the others voiced their agreement with this statement. Collins only smiled.

"I know who it's from," he said softly. Of course, there was no need to say anything out loud. They all knew, as soon as Collins voiced it. The confusion settled, and awe mixed with silence took its place. Angel.

After only another moment of silence, Mark pulled out his camera. "December 24th, 9:00 pm, Eastern Standard time. Another year has successfully passed. Pan left – the beautiful face of the woman I love. Pan right, in its grand debut – the trashcan. Not so beautiful. And there's Roger, Mimi, Maureen, Joanne, Angie, and Rachael. Up there, on the top of the tree, is Angel. It's been an unusually quiet Christmas thus far, though it commenced merrily with the singing of an Oldies classic, 'La Vie Boheme', earlier tonight. Now – maybe? – it's time to open presents!"

Grumbling in a good-natured way, the group dispersed for few minutes to get their shopping bags and hidden presents from various secret places around the Loft.

When everyone was assembled, Mark, who was still filming, said, "Seniors first," as he pointed at Collins, who predictably slapped him.

The first gift opened was a ruler, from Rachael and Angie, along with an elaborate and cheesy homemade card.

"It's a gag gift," Angie explained, taking the ruler, "So, you know, you can whack your students with it when they don't pay attention. Like this!" And she whacked Rachael.

Everyone laughed.

The evening escalated from there, as the remainder of the presents were eagerly opened. Mark would only open his presents when Rachael pried the camera away from him and promised on threat of death not to film the ceiling.

"We've made a big mess," Anna remarked when the last box had been unwrapped. It was true. Paper and cardboard littered the floor around them.

Mark lowered his camera and set it carefully beside him. "Who wants cleanup duty?"

"Not me!" Joanne cried out, making everyone laugh again.

"We'll pick up tomorrow," Maureen decided, surveying the room with distaste. "Or maybe the day after. Or maybe-˝ She was interrupted when Mimi playfully pounded her shoulder.

"Shush."

"Hey – where's my camera?" Mark cried out suddenly. "It was right here…!"

The adults all jumped up, knowing Mark would kill them if they didn't help look. Mimi threw the cushions off the couch. Maureen began throwing paper everywhere, landing quite a bit on Joanne's head.

Giggling interrupted the frantic search. Looking up, they all saw Rachael standing by the fire escape doors, filming the fiasco with Angie right beside her.

"Rachael!" Mark moaned. And he began to chase his daughter around the Loft, much to the amusement of the other Bohemians, who were soon rolling on the floor with hiccups.

Soon, however, the chase died down, and they all collapsed on the floor. Even Mark couldn't chastise Rachael very well – his breath was coming in short, uneven gasps.

"I'm going to kill you," was all he could manage. It was hardly a fatherlike statement, and all it did was send Rachael and Angie back into laughter. Which, predictably, made everyone else begin again, too.

---------------

A/N: I hope you liked it! This was a little bit shorter than previous chapters, just becaise I had to cut it in half. It would have been too long. Longer half comes next! Review!


	6. A Little Scare

A/N: Chapter Six! Yay! This one's reallyyyy long, much longer than I thought it was, so I saved the big drama for Chapter 7 or 8! But you get a taste of it here! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Uh-huh. And I created Mickey Mouse and Star Wars too.

---------------------

It was eleven o'clock, and the Bohemians were still up. Well, all except Collins, who had fallen into a doze and was completely unaware that Rachael and Angie, with the mischievousness nature most teens possess, were sprinkling bits of wrapping paper all over his face, trying to make him sneeze.

The rest of the group had fallen to talking and joking, but they were all getting bored, so the floor was littered with bits of string tied together in random knots and pieces of wrapping paper twisted absentmindedly into odd shapes. Which, without purpose, had already made the cleaning job easier.

"You know, I think this may be the first Christmas we've had in some time where nothing really's happened," Joanne remarked, "Last year, Maureen had her abused children protest, and the year before Roger got hit by a car."

Everyone shared a good laugh as they remembered that particular episode. They'd gotten a frantic call from Benny saying that Roger had gotten hit by a car, and rushed to the hospital only to find that the person hit by the Maxima was not Roger. The guitarist in question had returned home to the Loft after an errand to find it was empty, because his friends were all at the hospital. That story never lost its fame.

"Don't jinx it," Mimi advised, "Better women than you-"

But she was interrupted by a tremendous sneeze as Collins's nose could no longer handle the paper on top of it and he woke with a start.

Rachael and Angie immediately tried to look innocent, giving Collins concerned eyes while stifling their smiles with their hands. He wasn't fooled.

"Can't you two give an old man a rest once in a while?" he asked, his face reprimanding but his voice affectionate. He started to go on, but his next sentence was interrupted by a violent coughing fit that caused everyone to look at him in alarm.

"You okay?" Roger asked when he was finished.

"Yeah, fine," Collins answered, but he didn't meet Roger's stare.

No one was convinced. If Collins thought he could fool his longtime friends, he was dead wrong. They had all seen how he'd been sort of under-the-weather lately. It didn't seem nearly as serious as Angel's sickness, but you never knew…

"Maybe we'd better call it a night," Anna suggested, "It's gonna be Christmas in less than an hour. Bad luck to be awake when it's midnight on Christmas Eve, you know."

Behind Anna's back, they all rolled their eyes. Anna was definitely a sweet woman, but she had her ridiculous superstitions. But everyone began to think going to bed was a good idea when Collins let out another loud fit of harrumphing.

Everyone froze but Mimi, who went to him and put her hands on his shoulders. "Collins? Tom! Take deep breaths, okay? Count to three!"

Collins took a deep breath and smiled apologetically at his friends. "I'm_ fine_, Mimi. Just a little tired, is all."

"Have you been taking your AZT?" Roger asked.

"Yes," Collins answered defiantly.

"You'd tell us if you'd been feeling awful – right?" Mark wondered.

"_Yes_! Can't a man even cough around here without getting the third degree?"

It was clear no one was satisfied, but Anna turned to Mimi. "Good job with the deep breaths, Meems. You sure reacted quickly!"

"I've had practice," Mimi mumbled, "Too much…"

But Roger was looking at her funny, so she stood up abruptly. "I think I'll say good night now," she said, "Big Life Support meeting tomorrow, you know." She took a candle from the table and cupped her hand over the flame. "Don't let Angie stay up too late, Roger." Then she exited the Loft by way of the fire escape, before anyone had time to protest.

Collins whistled. "She's fast," he said, tapping his fingers rhythmically on one knee.

Roger sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"Dad, is Mom okay?" Angie asked her father, seeming to sense his distress.

"She's fine," he answered quickly, "She's probably just tired. You know how irritable your mother gets when she hasn't had enough sleep."

It was a lame excuse, and he knew it. Mimi could go days without any rest whatsoever, and she'd be fine. The truth was, Roger had a sneaking suspicion that Mimi's AIDS were bothering her. Being Mimi's husband, he knew that when she wasn't feeling like 100, she got cross. So the logical explanation was that she was feeling ill. It would explain her attitude tonight. But Roger didn't want to tell the others this. After all, it was clear Collins was feeling worse than Mimi, and he didn't want to admit that two people might be "illing."

Collins seemed to sense the direction if Roger's thoughts, because he stood up. "I think I'll turn in, too," he said, gathering his gifts in one box and tucking it under an arm.

"Want me to take you?" Mark offered.

"Nah, I've got my bike to ride home."

"We'll give you a ride," Joanne said firmly, "There's no way you're riding a bike home this time of night. And not with that cough." She stood up, pulling Maureen with her. "C'mon, pookie. We'll drop Mr. Teacher off at his apartment."

"But I'm not ready!" Maureen whined.

Joanne ignore her and gathered their scattered belongings. "We'll meet you all tomorrow at Life Support."

The three of them left, leaving Mark, Anna, Roger, Angie, and Rachael sitting dejectedly among the trash.

"Let's go, Angie," Roger said finally, standing up and flicking a piece of tape off his jeans.

"Um…Roger? Can I talk to you for a minute?" Mark asked.

"Sure. Go ahead, Angie. I'll be right down." Angie obeyed her father and waved to everyone as she climbed down the fire escape.

Mark glanced at his wife and she got up abruptly. "Rachael come with me, to my bedroom. I want to talk to you about something." Rachael looked doubtful, but she dutifully followed her mother down the hall, bidding Roger a merry Christmas as she went.

The moment they were gone, Mark turned to Roger. "They're sick, aren't they?"

"Who?" Roger feigned innocence.

Mark's eyes hardened, and his jaw clenched. "Don't pretend you don't know. I'm not even an expert on the signs of AIDS sickness like you, and I could tell. I know you're worried about Mimi, but-"

Roger turned away and interrupted his friend. "She's just not at the top of her game tonight, Mark. It's happened a few times over the years." This was true.

Mark ran his fingers through his spiky hair. "You'll tell Angie, won't you," he said suddenly, "When Mimi really does get sick?"

"What makes you think she's ever going to?" Roger countered.

Mark gave him a look. "She will, eventually. And Collins will get worse, too. We can't hide it from the girls. They're a part of this messed up family just as much as we are."

"Why are we worrying about this now, when neither of them seems really sick?" Roger wrinkled his brow. "Mimi's fine, and Collins – well, Collins may have it a little, but he's a big boy. You sound like my mother, being so worried." He snorted.

Mark didn't smile. "I sort of have this…feeling. Like something bad is going to happen."

Roger laughed. "Trust your senses! Use the force, Luke!" he said in a spooky voice.

Mark had to smile. "You're probably right. I'm just being silly. Paranoia was taking over. But…tell _me, _if anything does happen."

" I will," Roger promised, clapping his friend on the back. "I'll see you tomorrow." He crossed onto the fire escape.

"Merry Christmas!" Mark shouted after him, looking out the window.

It was snowing.

-----------------------

A/N: So...Love? Hate? Please review!


	7. Inside Their Minds

A/N: Okay, a quick update! This chapter's pretty short, because, if you remember, I had to split one chapter into three parts! This is the last part. Things get a little more uncertain, and there's no dialouge! All thoughts...

Disclaimer: I f I owned it, I wouldn't be writing this story.

**

* * *

**Not ready to head to bed yet, Mark dropped down on the couch and fiddled absentmindedly with his camera. The truth of the matter was, Mark was anything but convinced that Mimi and Collins were okay. He really did have a feeling that something bad was brewing. The fact that Collins and Mimi were both feeling ill only served to prove his suspicions. 

Sighing, he put his face in his hands. He remembered the last time that Mimi had gotten sick. Roger had run off to Santa Fe. Mark knew that wouldn't happen again, even if something bad happened, because there was Angie now. Of course, he hoped nothing would happen, but with three of the group internally ill…long life was a hope too high to be achieved.

---------

Below him, outside the Davis apartment, Roger was sitting dejectedly on the fire escape, fingers resting on the strings of his faithful instrument. He knew he shouldn't be keeping the truth from Mark. Mimi _was _sick, but not as sick as she had been. Some nights, Roger would wake up to hear Mimi retching into the toilet. But he'd nearly lost Mimi once. He wasn't willing to entertain the thought that it could really happen. And then there was Collins – a whole different person! Roger definitely wasn't going to think about losing two loved ones.

---------

In another part of the crowded city, Collins climbed out of Joanne's jeep. He waved to his "chauffeurs", than climbed the stairs and entered his apartment.

Collins, too, had not been entirely truthful to his friends. He hadn't been feeling too well this week. Still, he'd been worse, and he'd felt pretty good today. Until that coughing fit, that is. Besides, he knew that his friends would want to take him to a hospital, and he wasn't going. Hospitals symbolized death – Angel had died at one.

A beep interrupted his thoughts. He looked down at the little device clipped to his belt. AZT break.

---------

Joanne was troubled. She drove the jeep in silence while Maureen chattered on about her upcoming protests, oblivious to any trouble. Obvious fact: Collins was ill. Second obvious fact: He wasn't about to admit it. Joanne had seen how bad it got when Angel died. Now her (his?) lover might join her (him?).

As she parked the car along the curb, turned off the ignition, and wordlessly followed Maureen into their apartment building, thoughts of the future teased Joanne. If something happened to Collins, would the group be able to take it? Would they stick together? Or would it all fall apart again? As she thought all of these things, her mind never even considered Mimi's plight…

----------

Four people slept fitfully that night, plagued by thoughts of themselves and others. No day but today. But what would tomorrow bring?

* * *

A/N: Okay! Review! And don't depair over the AIDS thing! There is still hope! 


	8. Christmas Morning

A/N: Okay, Chapter 8! Now, I know I keep promising the big excitement soon, but good stopping places just keep coming to me, and the chapters seem the right length, so I let them end. So, no promises, but I can say it will be in the next few chapters. I noticed I didn't get reviews on the last chapter from a lot of my regular reviewers! Please review!

Disclaimer: When you're living in America, you're what you own. I am not Rent, so I don't own it.

-----------------------

Christmas morning dawned bright and clear. The sun was deceiving, however, as it was bitterly cold outside. In the Loft, only Mark was awake, nursing a cup of coffee. The electricity had come back on sometime during the night, but the rickety heater made more noise than heat. Mark was wearing his warmest sweater, coat, scarf, and gloves inside, as well as a pair of jeans that had seen better days.

A clatter on the fire escape startled the cameraman, and he swung around to see Roger leaping, catlike, onto the window sill. The latch was always undone, so within seconds the musician was standing before his friend, rubbing his arms beneath his coat.

"It's freezing out there!" he exclaimed breathlessly.

Mark nodded in agreement. "And our heater's reluctant to make it warmer in here."

Roger scowled at the clunking machine and gave it a half-hearted kick. It merely gurgled before continuing its rhythmic rant. Roger snorted and accepted a coffee-filled mug from Mark.

"Thanks. Are Anna and Rachael still asleep?"

"Yeah. I've been up for an hour or so, and haven't heard a peep. I think they may try to sleep Christmas away. What about Mimi and Angie?"

"Mimi's getting up, but Angie's still Sleeping Beauty." Roger paused. "Maybe we could go to Life Support without them. Like, maybe, an original group trip?"

Mark frowned. "Do you think they'd mind?"

"Hey, they get to go all the other days. I was just thinking…let's just say your bad feeling is right. I want to get as much time as I can with all my old friends. Just us, 'The Originals.'"

"'The Originals?'" Mark arched an eyebrow.

"Do you have better name?" Roger asked, grinning.

"I wasn't aware we needed one. How about 'B.A.D.D.?""

Roger laughed. "What would that stand for? 'Bohemians Against Drunk Driving?'"

"I was thinking "Benny and Descendants Die'," Mark joked, "Or I also like 'SASBAND' – 'Sick And Starving Bohemians Accept No Bennys'." Mark looked over at Roger to see him holding back laughter. "What?"

"Are there any that _don't _involve Benny-bashing?" Roger asked, sniggering.

Mark pretended to scowl. "Fine. 'The Originals' it is." He cupped his hands around his mouth to amplify and shouted softly, "Introducing…The Originaaaals!"

"What are you, practicing to be a sports announcer?" Mimi asked from the doorway. She looked a lot better than last night.

Roger laughed. "Nah. Mark's just announcing our entrance into the world of Bohemia. Like 'Look out world, here we come, the Bohemians from Alphabet City who all met one other person in the group on a fateful Christmas seventeen years ago – The Orginals." Roger inhaled a breath.

Mimi raised her eyebrows. "I see," she said in a voice that clearly meant she didn't. She took the cup of coffee offered her by Mark. "Explain please, Mr. Spike Lee."

He complied. "Roger suggested that you, me, him, Joanne, Maureen, and Collins go to Life Support this morning without Anna, Rachael, and Angie. He referred to us as The Originals. I suggested some _better _names, such as 'Benny and Descendants Die', but he turned them down. When you find out why we even need a name, let me know.

"Ooooh, I like B.A.A.D. Why can't we have that name, Roger?" Mimi fake whined.

Mark turned away. "Uh. Spare me. I'll write a note for Anna."

"I'll go do one for Angie," Mimi bounded off.

---------------------

Ten minutes later, Roger, Mark, and Mimi were in Roger's car, on their way to Life Support. Well, figuratively speaking. Technically, they were sitting in a dead-stopped line of traffic. Mimi was leaning over her husband and holding down the horn. Mark was stretched out in the back seat.

"I _told _you we should have walked," he moaned, "We've done it a million times!"

He was drowned out by the blares of horns all around the car, joined by their own.

"Hey estupido! Movie it!" Mimi leaned out the open window. She was practically sitting on her husband's lap now. Roger kept pushing her bushy hair away from his face.

Inch by inch, the traffic moved forward, Mimi shouting, sometimes in Spanish, and constantly honking the car horn. It was all Roger could do to navigate the steering wheel. Finally, they pulled up to the curb in front of a dingy building a block from the Life Support meeting place.

They found Maureen, Joanne, and Collins waiting in front of the building. Joanne was standing on the cold concrete, eyes fixed on her watch. Maureen was sitting on top of a railing, legs dangling. Collins was leaning against a telephone pole. He, in contrast to Mimi, looked worse than before. His dark face looked ashen. But he smiled as they approached, standing up to greet them.

"Where have you been?" Joanne chided, "We're late! And where is everyone else?"

"Asleep," Mark replied, "Or they were when we left. It's just us six."

"Let's get going," Maureen jumped off the railing.

Mark pulled out his camera. "Here we are, making our way into the Christmas morning Life Support Meeting. As you can see, Anna, Rachael, and Angie are missing form this possee. Yes, it's just us, The Originals…"

"'The Originals?'" Collins frowned in consternation.

Roger groaned. "Don't ask."

--------------------------

A/N: So...review! And thank you to CATSfanatic, who has faithfully reviewed every chapter since 4. Your reviews are appreciated!


	9. Lazy Afternoon

A/N: Sorry for the longer-than-usual update wait. My school had two Snow Days last week, and the other three were on delays, so things have been pretty crazy! Hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I don't own emotion, I Rent. Which I don't own either.

----------------------------------------

An hour later, the six of them sat on the steps outside Life Support. They were all in a dismal mood, having just discovered at the meeting that a fellow attendee, Laurie, had passed away a week ago.

"Poor Jack," Mimi whispered now. Jack was Laurie's extremely shy HIV-positive husband. "He's all alone now."

Roger put his arm around her. "Not _all _alone. He still has Life Support. And that includes us."

"Lot of good that does him, having us," Collins snorted, before suddenly releasing a series of coughs.

Joanne, who was sitting beside him, thumped him on the back. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I'm-˝ he coughed, "Just fine."

"Maybe we should head back to the Loft," Mark suggested. "The girls are probably wondering where we are."

"Don't hurry on my account," Collins protested, but they all stood up and made their way back to the cars anyway.

Collins wheezed a few times, but when asked if he was okay, he responded with such vehemence that they quit asking. The drive to the Loft was unnaturally quiet. Collins joined the others in Roger's car while Maureen and Joanne followed in the jeep. It took a while, but they finally pulled open the apartment door.

"There you are!" Anna exclaimed from where she and the two teenagers were perched on the counter. "What took you so long?"

In reply, Collins harrumphed and almost collapsed into Maureen's arms. As Roger and Joanne hurried to help, Mark explained to Anna, who ran off to find some blankets. Angie and Rachael watched in trepidation as the adult Bohemians made Collins as comfortable as possible on the couch.

"Shouldn't we go to the hospital?" Joanne mused.

Collins shook his head angrily. "I'm _fine_! Geez!" He tried to get up, but Mark pushed him back down.

"If you get any worse, we _will _take you to a hospital, but for now, just get some rest." Mimi insisted firmly. Collins knew better than to refuse Mimi when she was in her protection mode.

The group dispersed slightly over the next hour. Angie and Rachael disappeared onto the fire escape. Mark, Collins, and Roger, who hadn't slept well the night before, fell into a lazy dozelike state. It was clear Joanne was exhausted, too, but she opened her appointment book and began scribbling something down in it.

Anna, Mimi, and Maureen descended to the Davis apartment, and every once in a while, a giggle could be heard drifting through the vents.

Eventually, Roger reached for his guitar and felt for the strings. With his eyes still closed, he played a familiar melody. Everyone woke up slightly, groaning.

"Not the Musetta's Waltz!" Mark pleaded.

Roger pretended to be hurt. He instead strummed the melody to "Your Eyes", at the very moment the three women returned from downstairs. Mimi smiled, but Maureen gagged.

"Please don't tell me things have gotten so boring that you've started playing that old song!" she moaned. "Play Christmas songs instead. I'll even sing!"

"Christmas songs are cheesy," protested Roger, but he obeyed anyway, and soon Maureen was singing at the top of her lungs, over-exaggerating the end of every line. Rachael and Angie came in to find out what all the noise was.

"We thought there was a dying cow in here!" Angie exclaimed.

"Oh no! Elsie!" Maureen gasped, "You can't die!" She sunk to her knees, as if begging for mercy.

"You should use that pose in one of your protests," Joanne observed wryly.

"Great idea!" Maureen agreed, half in fun.

Anna glanced at her watch. "Anybody hungry?" she asked.

For lunch, the group enjoyed cheese sandwiches and stale bread, washed down with questionable grape juice, the only liquid currently in the fridge.

"Don't you ever go to the grocery?" Joanne asked, wincing after taking a swallow.

Rachael laughed. "Mom can't cook, so we get a lot of pizza and T.V. dinners. Lately we've been eating out, so we haven't bought anything. This is all that's left."

"Bon appetite!" Mark said brightly.

--------------------------------

A/N: Review! Also, as a note, I know my characters may be a little out of character at times, like they are more protective. Well, nobody writes a perfect character, and I choose to blame their different traits to the sixteen years it's been since we last saw them!


	10. Hello Love

A/N: Here we are: the point of no return. The big drama I've been promising. I wasn't going to update so quickly to build a little more suspense, but I decided to give you all a special Valentine's Day present. Even if you don't consider it a happy gift...

Disclaimer: All I own are a few Hershey's kisses!

-----------------------------------

An hour later, the whole group except for Mark and Collins went out to visit the cemetery and shop around a little. Mimi dragged Roger along to look at a toaster for their apartment, but Mark begged off on the pretense of developing some film. Everyone knew he also wanted to keep an eye on Collins, who had been forbidden to leave the couch after yet another coughing fit. Mimi and Anna had already decided that if the report from Mark was not good when they returned, Collins was going straight to the hospital.

Now Collins rested quietly on the couch while Mark went about his work. The apartment was unnaturally quiet with only the two of them out. Drunken calls and celebrating could be heard from the street, however, reminding both men how their Christmases had been spent in younger years.

"Mark," Collins said softly.

"Yeah?" Mark turned from his work.

"Can we talk?"

"Sure…" the filmmaker pulled up a chair, noting with a pang of concern the pasty pallor of his friend's face, "You okay?"

"I'm getting worse," Collins admitted, "I think I may die soon. Tonight."

Mark felt his eyes unwillingly fill with tears. _Where _did this sissy emotional reaction come from? He struggled to speak normally. "Maybe not. You know, people have made miraculous recoveries from relapses like this. You see it all the time on TV. They're sick one minute, and the next, all better. This is sorta like that time Mimi got really bad. I guess it came quicker for you because you're older. Then she got better and she's been mostly fine for sixteen years! So you may get better, too, and then-˝

"Mark," Collins said gently.

Mark swallowed. He knew he'd been babbling, but in a stupid way, it made him feel better.

"I don't want you getting all upset right now," Collins instructed, "God knows I'm emotional enough for the both of us. But I told the truth when I said I wasn't scared of death anymore."

"Where are the others, they should be here!" Mark said, jumping up, "I'll call Joanne, tell them all to come back!"

"No!" Collins said sharply, stopping Mark in his tracks, "Mark, I don't want them to come and fawn over me. I just want to die peacefully, like Angel did, with only me there. You're my best friend; I'm glad you're here, but the others don't have to be."

"But they'd want to say goodbye," Mark said meekly.

"And they'll have time, at the funeral. Mark, just let them know from me that I care about them. That's all that matters."

"Okay," Mark whispered.

-----------------------------------

Two hours later, Collins lay on the couch, alone in the room. Mark had retreated into his bedroom, on call if Collins needed him. But Collins wouldn't call Mark. His breathing was coming in shallow breaths, but he wasn't going to call his friend in to see his death.

A stab of pain and a tightening of his chest muscles made him gasp. A heart attack? He felt himself losing consciousness as his surroundings melted together and turned black. A glow ignited ahead above him (though now it seemed like he was standing up, so it was really in front of him), filling his mind with a sudden unexpected cheerfulness. Then Angel stepped into view. She was glowing and beaming at him.

"A-Angel?" he stuttered, finding he felt no pain in speaking.

"That's right," his lover said, reaching out a hand, "Come on, honey. It's your time to join me."

"But the others-˝ Collins began.

"-will have to go on without you. They'll be okay. Come."

So Collins took Angel's hand and left his body, walking forward as the glow encompassed them both just seconds before Mark reentered the room.

--------------------------------------

A/N: So...Collins is dead. Sorry to all Collins fans (I am one, too!), but I felt it was needed to add to the story. Decided this chapter was a good update for the holiday of love because Collins gets to be with Angel now. I have an announcement to make, too. Two people are going to die in this fanfic. One is dead - who will the second be? Happy Valentine's Day! Review!


	11. The Funeral

A/N: I updated quicker than I thought I would mostly because there's nothing else to do! This is a pretty short chapter, it just covers the funeral. R&R!

Disclaimer: I sincerely wish!

------------------------------

The funeral was held three days later, on the 28th. Mark, Roger, Mimi, Joanne, Maureen, Angie, Anna, and Rachael sat together in the front pew on the left side of the church. Collin's ancient mother sat on the other side. Nobody spoke to her, not knowing what to say. Benny and Life Support were also there, just as they had been for Angel's funeral.

Each of the "Originals" got up and made a statement about Collins, causing the whole affair to seem parallel to Angel's death. All of the girls were crying, and Roger and Mark were clearly upset by their tight-lipped expressions.

"…I will always remember the times way back when, when I shared an apartment with Collins, Mark, and Benny," Maureen reminisced, "He was the one who kept a bright attitude when things got bad. Always believing things would get better no matter how bad they seemed. Up to the end."

"…You couldn't find a truer friend anywhere in the city. Collins was always there when you needed him. When April died and I was going through withdrawal, Collins reminded me that I was alive. He said I was doing great. He made you remember the good things in life." Roger smiled appreciatively.

"…He was an optimist. That is the word that sums up a lot of what Tom Collins was about. One night he got beat up, but the next morning, he was laughing as if nothing had ever happened. He _always _bounced back. He had a constant good attitude. And he was one of my best friends." Mark gazed at the photo of Collins for a moment before rejoining his friends.

After the funeral, the Bohemians traipsed outside to say goodbye to the coffin before it was lowered into the grave dug right next to Angel's. They dropped flowers onto it and whispered goodbyes. Roger and Joanne talked to the minister and paid for the burial. No one said anything aloud.

They all stood quietly around when the coffin was lowered. Benny hovered in the background. He was no longer a part of the group, but he had known Collins, so no one questioned his presence.

When there was nothing more to see, they all turned away to retreat to somewhere to drown out their grief. Many in the group remembered the last time this scenario had been played out, when they had all parted in anger and regret. This time, they would stick together.

As they reached the cemetery gates, Mark said, "I'll see you all later," and jogged off down the street.

"Mark!" Anna began to go after him, but Roger put a hand on her arm.

"Let him go. He'll find us when he's ready." Roger had a pretty good idea where Mark had gone.

"Where to now?" Joanne asked, without any particular enthusiasm.

"The café," Mimi and Anna said at the same time.

"Yeah," Maureen agreed, "So we can get something. Beers all around. Except for Rachael and Angie, of course."

The other females gave their consent in dull tones. They all began to wander in that direction, so lost in their own grief that they didn't even notice when Roger began to walk the other way.

-------------------------------

A/N: Hope it wasn't too sappy! Also, I have written a Wicked fanfic, and I am thinking about submitting it to the site. Tell me what you think!


	12. Up On the Apartment Top

A/N: Continuing in the tradition of quick updates...Chapter 12! Also, I'd like to apologize in advance for any and all sappiness and out-of-characterness (is that a word?). This was a difficult chapter.

Disclaimer: Uh-uh.

---------------------

Mark sat on the roof, staring out at the city in front of him. His eyes were vacant, however, and he wasn't really seeing any of it.

_Collins is dead._

Those three words alone hurt deeply to think about. And, as usual, Mark had run off to hide his feelings from his friends. He knew he wasn't the only one who liked to hide emotions, but it still made him feel like a jerk. Something Roger had said to him once rang in his head.

_"You're always preaching not to be numb, when that's how you thrive – you pretend to create and observe when you really detach from feeling alive!"_

And he had responded angrily.

_"Perhaps it's because I'm the one of us to survive!"_

That wasn't really true, not anymore. There was Anna, and Rachael. Even Angie. And Maureen and Joanne were really part of the group now. He had, technically, a lot of people who had no reason to suddenly get sick and die. But it still felt that way. Collins was dead – who would be next? AIDS had taken one of his best friends away; would the world be cruel enough to take the other?

The answer was obvious. Duh.

Mark remembered what it had been like after Angel died. Roger ran off to Santa Fe, Collins withdrew almost completely from sight, and Mimi grew sicker and sicker. Maureen and Joanne tried to help, but there wasn't much they could do. Benny had been the most help, paying for Mimi's treatment in rehab. Mark himself grew immersed in his work, forgetting the true joys of real filming and concentrating on assignments for _Buzzline_. He hated himself for it, knowing he was acting exactly the way Roger told him he did…Mark hides in his work. Then again, Mark hated himself a lot of the time back then.

_But, _he argued with himself now on the rooftop, _I've been better. I haven't been 'numb'. _

Of course, that statement wasn't really reliable. There hadn't been much to be upset about over the past sixteen years. Collins would be the first. And Mark just didn't know what to do to stop himself from acting like a baby again.

_I'm a father now, darn it! Grow up!_

_--_

Roger mounted the steps to the roof slowly. There was no reason to hurry – he knew this was where he'd find his blonde-haired friend. Opening the door and shutting it softly behind him, he walked forward a few paces, and sure enough, Mark was sitting on some sort of furnace box, facing out at the city.

"I knew I'd find you here," Roger said loudly.

Mark looked around and spotted the speaker. His lips curved upward in the ghost of a grim smile. Roger took that as an invitation and joined Mark on the box. For a moment neither said anything. Then Mark broke the silence.

"I'm doing it again, you know."

Roger frowned in confusion. "Doing what?"

"Making myself numb from the world. Hiding. Detaching. The whole shebang." Mark didn't look at Roger, fixing his gaze on the apartment building across the street.

Roger was taken aback. "It's okay to be sad, Mark. We're all sad right now, and I imagine all of us deal with it in a different way. You're not the only person frond of the rooftop escape." He smiled a little.

"But you said-˝

"I was _mad _Mark! So, okay, maybe I did mean what I said, but I was just mad because you were telling me advice that you didn't follow yourself. And I was mad. Did I say that?"

"Yeah," Mark said, looking slightly happier. But only slightly.

"It's okay to want to be alone every once in a while," Roger pointed out. "We don't always have to be the 'Macho Men' of the world. As long as we maintain composure in front of the women and children."

He said it in a professional way that made them both smile faintly. Then Mark nodded slowly, twiddling with the ends of his scarf.

"It'll be different around here now," he said dismally.

Roger nodded, too. "Yeah."

And they lapsed into silence. There wasn't anything left to say.

-------------------------------------------

A/N: Okay, again, apologies for sappiness. It's not like men to open up, but I felt I needed to tell the thoughts of Collins's closest friend in the group. Also, updates may take a little longer now! I have finally reached the point where I no longer have the chapters written out on paper with only minimal changes required. I now have to write from scratch, though I do have the plan for the story and future chapters. I know what's gonna happen. So..."February 20, 2007, 8:14 pm, Eastern Standard Time. From here on in, I write without script. See if anything comes of it." Review!


	13. Without You

A/N: Doesn't everybody love quick updates:) I do!

Disclaimer: How many times do I have to write this stupid thing? No. No. No. There. Now it's fifteen in all.

-----------------------

At the Life Café, the female Bohemians sat sadly at a table in the corner. Maureen, Joanne, and Mimi were on their second beer each. Anna, when offered her own, had initially refused.

"I don't drink," she said, and then promptly seized a glass and downed it. Angie and Rachael had their own beers – root beers, that is.

"I propose a toast," Joanne said softly, "To Tom Collins."

"To Collins," they all chorused halfheartedly, clinking their glasses together.

The silence that followed the toast deepened the depression hanging over the table. A dry sob erupted from Rachael's throat; Anna immediately pulled her daughter close. Angie moved close to embrace her mother, and Maureen and Joanne rested against each other. Tears were plentiful and the beers were forgotten. The grief they felt was beyond stifling.

"Let's go home," Joanne finally whispered.

------------------------

When the girls pushed open the Loft door, it was to find Mark and Roger sitting silently on the couch. They looked up at the sound and came to gather their wives in their arms.

Everyone took a seat in the main room, much like they had on Christmas Eve four nights ago – only Collins's place was empty.

Mimi broke the silence. "I can't believe he's gone…"

Roger took her hand, "But I promise I'm not going…"

"This time, our family won't die…" Mark agreed.

Maureen responded, "Collins always believed in love…"

"I really can't disagree…" Joanne said.

The five of them chorused, "But to him we've got to say goodbye…"

-------------------------

Late that night, the Loft was silent. Roger, Mimi, and Angie had returned to their apartment downstairs. Maureen and Joanne didn't want to venture out into the city so late, so they were lodged in the main room. Everyone was asleep.

Not all of them, however, slept peacefully.

Mark lay in bed beside his wife, plagued with nightmares. Images of Collins and Angel flashed before him. Their voices spoke, addressing him in echoey tones.

"_You okay, honey?"_

"_Mark, you're my best friend…"_

And then Collins and Angel disappeared, and everything was black. Voices came from the darkness, chanting at him. "_Dead. Dead. Dead…dead…dead…"_

He found himself in the cemetery, walking alone among the tombstones. It was a familiar scene, and Mark knew the words before they were said.

"_Why am I the witness? And when I capture it on film, will it mean that it's the end, and I'm alone?"_

_------------------------------_

A/N: Short chapter, huh? Okey-dokey...so we have a few familiar song-thingys in this chapter. Everybody caught the Goodbye Love one, I'm sure, and the Halloween one, too! Couldn't help myself. Review!


	14. Boys and Badness

A/N: Chapter 14, in less than a week! And longer this time!

Diclaimer: For the fifty-millionth time, NO.

-----------------------------

A week later, things had pretty much gotten back to normal. Rachael and Angie went back to school for their second semester. Mimi reopened her dance studio, "Feline of Avenue B", and Anna returned to her teaching position. Joanne went back to her office, and Maureen began planning her next protest. Mark and Roger went back to their jobs, making film shorts and writing music for a small-time movie company.

The first day back at high school, Rachael and Angie were lingering at Angie's locker after the final bell when they spotted Ben Coffin coming down the hall.

"Quick! Hide me!" Angie squealed, ducking behind her locker door.

"Ang, what is the matter with you?" Rachael asked, rolling her eyes, "I mean, you like him, and he definitely likes you. So hook up already!"

"Easy for you to say. Rach, if my dad sees me talking to a Coffin, much less flirting with one, I'll never be allowed to leave the apartment again!"

"Oh yeah, and your dad's just going to randomly show up at school! Here he comes! Now go!" Rachael shoved Angie into view just as Ben reached them. The two collided, scattering Ben's books everywhere.

"Ohmigosh! I'm soooo sorry, Ben!" Angie gasped, kneeling down immediately to help Ben pick up his stuff.

"S'okay," he said, smiling. The two of them stood, and Angie noticed that Rachael had disappeared.

"I'm going to get you, Rachael Cohen…" Angie muttered through clenched teeth.

"Huh?" Ben asked.

"Oh…nothing," Angie said quickly. There was a moment of awkward silence.

"So, um, I heard about your dad's friend, Collins," Ben said finally.

"Yeah. I saw your dad at the funeral," Angie said.

"I wanted to go with him, but my mom wouldn't let me," Ben confessed. He shifted. "Listen, Angie, I gotta go meet my mom now, but I was wondering…would you like to get together sometime? You know, outside of school?"

"What, like a…˝ Angie held her breath.

"Like a date." Ben finished, looking apprehensive.

"I'd love to!" Angie burst out, turning red immediately afterwards.

Ben's face relaxed into a smile. "Great! I'll call."

"No, I'll call you," Angie said, thinking of her father, "You know, my dad and all…"

"Right," Ben said, "Okay, well, I'll see you tomorrow then." He took his other books from Angie. "Bye!"

"Bye!" Angie called after him. She leaned against the lockers, grinning a ridiculous grin.

"See? That wasn't so bad," Rachael commented, appearing in the doorway of an empty classroom.

"I would try to kill you for abandoning me, but you actually helped," Angie said, "So I'll spare you. C'mon, we should get home."

-----------------------

When the two teens arrived at the Loft, they were surprised to find their parents all there. Usually, they were the first to get home, followed closely by Anna. The others didn't arrive until dinnertime. But now, the Loft was abuzz with noise. Everyone except Mimi seemed to be running around. The dancer herself was lying on the couch, taking heavy breaths and apparently unconscious.

"Mom? Are you okay? What's going on?" Angie asked, dropping her backpack onto the floor and approaching her mother.

Anna came back into the room with a blanket, which she laid gently over Mimi. "Your mom's okay, sweetie," she assured Mimi.

Mark was close behind his wife. "Anna, tell the girls what happened," he said, giving his wife a look.

Anna sighed. "All right. According to one of the dance instructors, Mimi was at the dance studio demonstrating for one of the younger classes when she collapsed. They wanted to call an ambulance, but they called Roger first, and he insisted that he would come get her himself. He and Mark caught me at my office phone, so I came here to help."

"But what's _wrong_?" Rachael asked.

Roger, who had just emerged from the back hallway, answered that question. "It's her AIDS," he said, without any trace of uncertainty.

Rachael and Angie both gasped. Anna, who had probably already been told this, pursed her lips. Mark nodded slowly.

"But she can't...we just lost Collins..." Angie struggled for something to say.

"And we _won't _lose Mimi," Roger said forcefully. He put an arm around his daughter. "We won't. Angie, and Rachael, this goes for you, too - I don't want either of you to act like anything's wrong. Do you hear me? Everything is just like normal. Some days, everything will be fine; others, it'll be awful. But don't let her see your concern. It will only make her feel worse."

Mark added, "At least we've got time to try to fight this. With Collins, there was no time."

Everyone agreed on this point. Angie took a seat beside her mother as the adults went into the other room to talk privately and Rachael went to the fridge to find a snack. Her mother's face looked so pale...

"Hello disease..." she whispered.

------------------------------

A/N: I didn't waste much time to get back into the drama, did I? That's because I think this story is going to wrap up pretty soon. I already have a rough outline for the end. But, with the way I write, the path to the end could be three chapters, or it could be ten! Also, some of you may be wondering why I put in the Angie/Ben thing. Trust me, that becomes important later! So...review!


	15. Time Flies, Time Dies

A/N: Another chapter up! In this chapter, I pretty much did what they did in the original Rent, when they zip through a lot of time. I passed months by so that I could get back around to Christmas. Just wanted to say that this is the **next to last chapter!** Only one more to go, and possibly an epilogue, if I get enough reviews!

Disclaimer: Rent has never been mine!

--------------------------

Months passed. The wound of Collins's loss got better until, like Angel's, it was only a scar, painless unless thought about for too long. Mimi's sickness fluctuated, getting better one day and taking a nosedive the next. It became more and more difficult to act as if nothing was happening, but the group struggled to do just that, for Roger's sake if not for Mimi's.

To everyone's surprise and disappointment, Roger had slipped into depression. He barely talked to the others, and he seemed to be lost in his guitar, using it as a way to get out of conversation. As if he could play his way out of reality. Oftentimes the others could hear him up on the roof, screaming his frustration out at the world in the form of a desperate song; packed with emotion but void of sense. He wouldn't let the others take Mimi to the hospital because it would mean acknowledging that she was seriously ill. In many ways, he was the same Roger that had come out after Angel died.

Her father's actions were scaring Angie, and she pretty much moved in with the Cohens. Roger didn't seem to notice, and Mimi supported the idea.

"Let me talk to him, chica. He'll come around eventually." But some days Mimi couldn't get out of bed. When that happened, Maureen, the only one without a steady job, would come stay with her until someone else got off work and took over.

Angie and Ben were going out steadily, but they tried to keep it quiet so that word wouldn't get around somehow to Roger and only deepen his rage. After a couple of weeks, however, Angie did tell her mother about her boyfriend. Mimi wasn't upset. In fact, she seemed pleased that Angie had found someone decent to date, Coffin or not. So pleased, in fact, that she immediately went and told everyone in the group besides Roger. They had all been forced to swear a vow of secrecy.

Rachael and Mark were working on a documentary together, the contents of which they kept a secret from the rest of the group, even Anna. Whenever they felt like working on it, they would shoo the others out of the apartment building.

Angie turned sixteen.

Summer came and went, and school started up again.

Rachael turned sixteen.

Mimi steadily worsened, until the days when she could get out of bed dwindled and disappeared. Around Halloween, while Roger was out, Maureen, Joanne, and Anna snuck Mimi off to the hospital. When Roger came home and discovered his wife was missing, he didn't say much but went straight to the hospital.

Mark, who accompanied him, later said that Roger was very calm throughout the entire thing. He went up to the nurse's station and asked if his wife could come home. The nurses were very taken aback, and it took a while for them to find the doctor in charge of Mimi. When the doctor came, he was intimidated by Roger's taller stature and glowering expression. After stuttering on for a while (while Roger waited patiently and Mark nervously), the doctor came to the conclusion that if Mimi consented to leave the hospital, she could.

After seeing her husband's murderous expression, Mimi quickly consented.

A couple more months passed. Mimi was doing better – every once in a while, she could even walk around the apartment. Even Roger seemed to be healing. It was a slow process, but it was a start.

Christmas Eve rolled around once again. Eighteen years, they'd been a group. "Members" had come and gone, but the basis was the same. This year, they were a little late in going to the Café. Everyone was up in the Loft, waiting for the Davises. Roger was in a good mood for once, and Mimi was doing so well that she had begged to come along. Her husband said yes, as long as she didn't overexert herself. No further renditions of "La Vie Boheme", in other words.

Just then, Angie ran into the Loft through the open door. She looked very frightened.

"The idiot!" she was muttering to herself.

"Ang, what's wrong?" Rachael asked, furrowing her brow.

"Ben called the apartment! I don't know how he could have forgotten about the "No Call" rule I set! But Dad answered, and he is _steaming _mad. It didn't help that Mom revealed we've been dating for almost a year now. Oh, why did this happen _tonight_?"

The sounds of a shouting Roger could be heard filtering up through the vents.

"How could you lie to me, Mimi?!" he yelled, "How could you lie to me for a whole year?!"

"I _wasn't_ lying!" Mimi yelled back, her voice hoarse, "You never asked if Angie was dating anyone!"

"You know what I mean!"

The occupants of the Loft looked at each other nervously as the rant went on.

"Mimi's in no condition for this," Joanne said quietly.

Maureen nodded. "We have to intervene."

The group went down the flight of stairs, confident that no one could hear them over the yelling. Mimi was now shouting in Spanish, easily discernible through the cracked-open door, but Angie didn't bother to translate.

"Let me try," Mark said loudly, in order to be heard by the others. He stepped forward and opened the door a little bit, revealing himself but not the others.

"Roger, Mimi, stop!" he said feebly. They paid no attention, and it was doubtful they even saw him. Gathering his voice, Mark tried again. "Roger, Mimi, SHUT UP!!!" he bellowed. They shut up, but only for a few seconds.

"Mark, stay out of this!" Roger ordered angrily before turning back to his wife.

"Roger, you never give any of the Coffins a chance! Just because you have a grudge with Benny does _not _mean you can prevent our daughter from liking his son!" Mimi yelled. She was flushed and quivering violently.

Mark vaguely realized that his companions had joined him and were watching the argument unfold.

"I can do what I want! I'm the father! The _head of the house_!" Roger spat.

Mimi opened her mouth to hurl a return, but then she choked and her legs gave way as she collapsed instead.

Immediately, everyone sprang into motion. Joanne, Anna, Angie, Rachael, and Mark ran to Mimi's side. Maureen ran for the phone to call 911. Roger just stood there, catching his breath with a shocked expression on his face. Then he sprinted to Mimi's side as well.

"Mimi? What have I done?!" he wailed, cradling her limp body.

"She's still breathing," Anna said, checking her friend's pulse.

Joanne glared coldly at Roger. "You shouldn't have been yelling at her like that. You know her body can't handle that much stress right now!"

"There's no time for that!" Maureen chided, returning from the phone. "An ambulance will be here in a couple minutes!"

The Bohemians huddled around Mimi, the silence broken only by Angie's crying as Rachael hugged her friend close. As sirens began to blare in the distance, they remained frozen in place, fear and grief holding them captive.

_Mimi's running out of time…_

_------------------------------_

A/N: Please review!


	16. No Day But Today

A/N: Last chapter! (I changed it a little from my first submission, since there will be no epilogue.)

Disclaimer: Forget it.

-----------------------

The hospital was cold, bright, and unwelcoming to the frightened Bohemians. After rushing to the hospital, they had been told to wait in the waiting room as Mimi was hurried off to the critical ward. Roger wasn't happy with those instructions, and he paced back and forth across the room, shoes stomping the linoleum tiles while he muttered a string of curses and pleas. Angie huddled between Maureen and Rachael, crying softly. Mark had used the pay phone to call Benny. None of them said anything, instead clinging to each other for a comfort they were unable to find.

Then Ben and his father walked in. Everyone froze, waiting for Roger's reaction and the inevitable explosion. But it didn't come.

Instead, Roger acknowledged the Coffins with a slight nod of his head. Benny inclined his head in return before taking a seat beside Mark. Angie stood up and Ben enfolded her in his arms, stroking her hair as she sobbed into his shoulder. Roger gave the couple a long look before nodding again, slowly, as if accepting something. He resumed his pacing.

"Where's Muf-Allison?" Maureen asked Benny, her voice, for once, not hostile.

Benny frowned. "We're…we're having some problems in our marriage right now. When I got the call from Mark and told her Mimi was in the hospital, she pretty much said 'Good riddance.' I couldn't take that, and we had a fight. I don't know where we're heading." He massaged his temples.

Angie spoke, her voice cracking. "Mom _can't _die! She just _can't_! I need her!" And she broke down again. Ben and Rachael hugged her tightly.

Roger approached his daughter, and the other two teenagers released her into his arms. "It's gonna be okay, sweetie," he said soothingly, holding Angie tightly, "It's gonna be okay." His voice broke, and a few tears rolled down his cheeks. "I'm sorry I haven't been there for you through this whole thing. I haven't been a very good father, have I?"

Angie only clutched her father tighter. "It's okay," she choked through her crying.

For a moment, the two held each other as the other Bohemians watched, feeling a glimmer of warmth and hope in the midst of the anxiety. Then the door opened, and a doctor holding a clipboard came in. He looked incredibly uncomfortable. Everyone looked at him expectantly, holding their breath.

"Well?" Roger asked impatiently.

The doctor took a deep breath. "I'm afraid she's not doing well. The chances of saving her are-˝

Roger cut him off. "I don't want to hear her chances. I just want to see her."

The doctor nodded. "You and your daughter may come in. I must ask the rest of you to wait here for now."

Angie and Roger followed the doctor out of the room. The others stared after them long after the door had closed.

The next fifteen minutes were the longest any of them had ever sat through. There was nothing to stare at but blank wall, nothing to say, nothing to do except wait and hope.

Then the door opened once again. Seven heads turned immediately. The same doctor was standing there.

"The rest of you may go in now." he announced.

Everyone got up and followed the man through the door and down a hallway to a closed door. Taking a deep breath, Mark pushed the door open.

Mimi was lying in a hospital bed, hooked up to what seemed like a million tubes and wires. At first glance, she appeared to not be breathing, but a closer inspection showed that her chest was rising and falling jerkily. Angie and Roger sat in chairs at one side of the bed, their faces drawn. They barely looked up when their friends entered the tiny room, filling up all available space.

"Oh, Mimi…" Anna breathed, new tears spilling down her face at the sight of her friend.

Roger held his wife's hand, tears flowing freely now. He was clearly struggling to keep all his different emotions from spilling out. He wasn't the only one struggling. Angie was sobbing so hard she was shivering and clutching blindly at Mimi's sheet. And _everyone _was crying, or extremely close to it.

Mimi stirred, and everyone looked up at her face. Her lips moved slightly.

"She's trying…to say…something," Angie managed through her tears. They all leaned closer to make it out.

"I…love…you…" It was very faint, but it was there. Roger tightened his grip on his wife's hand.

"I love you, too," he whispered.

"Me too, Mom," Angie murmured.

Then Mimi's monitor stopped beeping. The absence of the blips made everyone jerk up in alarm. Then the silence was replaced by a dull and continuous "beeeep".

"Mimi!" Roger yelled, lifting his wife up and hugging her body closely. Nurses poured into the room, shooing everyone else out. Mimi's doctor came in with them.

"Sir, I have to ask you to leave the room for a minute," he began, but Roger only held Mimi tighter. "Sir-˝ he tried again.

Roger cut him off. "No..." He cradled Mimi's body. The rest of the Bohemians stood in the doorway, unsure of what to do. Then Roger started. "She moved! Mimi?"

Everyone jumped as the monitor slowly began to blip again, and the flat line moved. Even the nurses were frozen in place.

Mimi stirred in Roger's arms. She blearily opened her eyes. "Roger…?" she asked, blinking up at her husband.

Roger let out a strangled sound and hugged Mimi tightly. The other Bohemians fought their way back into the room and gathered around the hospital bed.

"Mimi!" Anna gasped, drying her tears and hugging her friend.

"You did it again, Mimi!" Maureen said, smiling and squeezing Mimi's shoulder.

The others expressed similar joyous feelings, hugging Mimi in turn. The nurses tried a few times to penetrate the wall of happy people in order to inspect Mimi, but they were rebuffed each time.

Mimi smiled weakly around at all of them. "I felt like I was falling. I heard all of you, but it was all distant and echoey. And I was falling deeper and deeper into darkness. Then I felt something warm from below me, and I was being pushed back up. And I swear – Angel and Collins were there! And they said, 'It still isn't your time, girl. Go back up to the light…go back.' And then I was here." She looked at all of them.

There was a moment of stunned silence.

Then Roger spoke. "Mimi, "I'm so sorry for the way I've been acting. It wasn't fair to you or anyone else," (here he looked up to include the rest of them), "I…I'll try to work on it."

Mimi kissed her husband. "It's okay." Everyone else smiled, too. Mark clapped his friend on the back.

A nurse came into the room, oblivious to what had just happened. She addressed the doctor.

"Dr. Walker, I'm sorry to interrupt, but John Willis just expired in Room 303."

"Oh my goodness!" The doctor exclaimed. He hurried out of the room, and the silence was broken. The nurses took advantage of the silence to push their way to Mimi.

"You're going to have to watch our film now," Rachael said to everyone, glancing at her father, "It's about you all – and us. About everything."

"I'm sure it'll be great," Mimi said, patting Rachael's knee and beaming.

"There is no future, there is no past…" Mark sang.

"Thank God this moment's not the last…" Roger continued.

"There's only us – there's only this, forget regrets, or life is yours to miss; no other path – no other way – no day but today!" they all sang in unison, "No day but today!"

-----------------------

A/N: So...what'd you think? Good ending? I had all of you thinking Mimi was going to die. Remember how I said two people were going to die? Well, that John Willis guy was the second!

A million thanks to all of my reviewers. You kept this story going, and I wish I could thank each of you individually. Thank you for all your positive feedback!!

I decided not to do an epilogue. I think it wrapped up pretty well on its own. Plus, I wanted it to end on Christmas Eve, where it started. Keep a look out for other stories by me!

Viva La Vie Boheme!


End file.
